


The Corvega Method

by Kicker



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Canis Ex Machina, F/M, Light Smut, One Shot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-24 23:30:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6171064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kicker/pseuds/Kicker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Y'all know that guys dig when a girl hops into a set of power armor.</p><p>This guy don't make it so obvious. Except, you know, when he does.</p><p>(aka I bet Sturges loves a power-armor-wearing and weapon-modifying Sole as much as Danse or any of the other companions do)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Corvega Method

Sturges knew she was the one when her eyes lit up at the mention of power armor. Most people thinking about power armor are also thinking holy shit, we are gonna die. If you need the armor, you're in real trouble. If you're facing it, it's probably worse. But she heard the words and went tripping down the stairs to fetch a fusion core afore Preston'd even finished explaining what one was.

Not long after, the sorry group of survivors is walking out of the museum past a dead deathclaw and about a dozen raiders that are just as cold. And they've got a new metal miracle guardian trotting along beside them.

The suit's got a couple new dints and scratches from the 'claw, and it already had a thick coating of rust, not to mention the missing plates. But it's a fine piece of engineering. In fact, as they walk out of Concord, he can't take his eyes off it.

"Watch your step," she says.

He looks down, and finds he was about to trip over a discarded tyre. Kinda forgot she could see out the helmet, he was looking so hard. He coughs, looks around for some scenery to comment on, play it cool. Luckily, there's a Red Rocket. Now that should be good for some salvage, once they're settled. Tools, and scrap, and so on.

"Well, look at that," he says, "I think I just found my new vacation home."

"You like cars, huh?" she says.

"I like anything I can tinker with," he says.

She nods, and falls back to the rear of the group.

When they reach Sanctuary, she hops out of the suit in the middle of the street, and just walks around it, looking it up and down.

"That was wild," she says. "I always wanted a go in one of these."

"Seriously?" he says.

"Yeah," she says. "It was the game we always played at school. Power Armor versus Dinosaur. I suppose that'd be Power Armor versus Deathclaw now."

She hits the back of the suit to close it up.

"Oh," she says. "Oh my god!"

She looks pretty shocked, so he thinks that whatever it is must be bad. Except for the smile that's spreading across her face.

"What's up?" he asks.

She replies by raising her fists in the air. "I am the actual winner of Power Armor versus Dinosaur. In real life!"

"Well, alright," he says.

She waves those fists around in some kinda celebratory gesture. "Take that, Abigail Greene, you dinosaur-loving freak!"

He's not going to pretend he understands, but he has to admit she's kinda cute with the enthusiasm and the super-wide smile.

She lowers her arms, presses her hands over her face and laughs. "I'm sorry, I'm just under a lot of stress right now."

"It's fine," he says. "Mind if I take a look at it?"

"Go for it," she says. "You found it, it's yours."

He's working on it one day when Dogmeat runs up to him. Barks a couple of times. Runs away a few steps, then comes back and barks again.

"What's up, Dogmeat?" he says. "You wanna play a game?"

The dog barks. Runs around in a circle.

Well, it is probably time for a break. Even Preston's sitting by the cooking fire with a can of water. And the dog probably doesn't get much fun, specially when she's away.

"Okay, Dogmeat," he says. "Come on."

The dog barks and runs away, disappears behind piles of scrap, reappears. Waits for him to catch up, then darts off again.

Darts right over the bridge, in fact.

Sturges ain't leaving Sanctuary. Not for anything. "Come on, Dogmeat. Get back here."

Dogmeat barks.

"Seriously, come on back," he says, gesturing with his hand.

Dogmeat ignores him. In fact the dog runs further away.

"God damn," says Sturges. "Whole settlement'll kick my ass if I lose you."

When he crosses the bridge, the dog's still there, bouncing around. But he still won't come back.

Sturges is just cussing the dog out for being an asshole when he sees why. There she is, sitting on the roof of Red Rocket, legs hanging over the edge. She raises a hand and waves.

"Well, how about that," he says to Dogmeat. "You're a co-conspirator. You know that? I'm disappointed in you."

Dogmeat looks up at him and pants noisily. Looks a lot like a grin. That dog's smarter than any dog should be.

By the time he finds the ladder and gets on the roof, she's moved to the other side, looking down on Concord. She's got a couple cushions over there, with a cooler beside them. Generator humming away below, light breeze rustling through dead leaves. Sun's starting to dip toward the horizon. Nice atmosphere.

He sits down beside her, crossing his legs. "I can't believe you used the dog like that."

"I'm shy," she says. "I couldn't ask a person to do it."

"Do what, exactly?" he asks.

"Lure you away from everyone else," she says. "Obviously."

"Sweetheart," he says, "you could do that in Sanctuary, anytime."

She laughs. "If you were in Sanctuary, you'd be too busy wandering around trying to find something to hit with a hammer."

He frowns. "I did bring my hammer," he says. "That panel over there looks like it could do with some hammering. Maybe I should..."

She grins, and opens a beer. Cap flies off and over the edge of the roof. "Ah, shit," she says. "I'm such a dumbass."

"Nah, you're not," he says. "I'll tell you what y'are, though."

She looks up at him, holds out the beer. "Go on."

He grabs the beer, and raises his eyebrow. "Prettier than a crate full of hubflowers."

The smile that spreads over her face is about the cutest thing he's ever seen.

Before the sun goes down, there's nothin' between them and the Lord but a couple of smiles.

She ain't so shy about the luring after that, but she's not around all that much. Sometimes when she comes back she's angry and bruised. Then she avoids him. She avoids everyone. But other times, she's more relaxed. She brings him interesting things she's found. Badges from old cars, materials he can use to fix up the settlement.

Then one day she comes in with a look that says she's trying to hide a smile. Now that spells trouble. The good kind of trouble.

"Hey Sturges," she says.

"Hey," he says. "What's up?"

"Well," she says, "I know you've been working really hard, and everyone needs a break once in a while. So, how do you fancy a little daytrip?"

"Well," he says, "hitting this particular thing with a hammer is real important to me. But since it's you askin', sure. Why not."

They travel down the road to Concord, and that's fine. Then they go on through to Drumlin, and he's about ready to go in the door and settle down. Little diner date, kinda cute. But she keeps on going.

"I'm not so sure about this," he says. "I mean, that's a pretty dress and all, but if we get attacked it ain't gonna be much protection."

"Trust me," she says. "I cleared the way already, we'll be fine."

She is pretty vigilant, and makes sure the way is definitely clear. Round the outskirts of Lexington, and that's probably a good thing because he finds it kinda hard to believe that she's cleared out the whole place.

She stops in front of a huge factory. Corvega Assembly Plant, says the name above the door. Infested with raiders not so long ago, holed up in turn against the ferals. When he'd come through with the Minutemen, they'd taken one look at it and booked it in the opposite direction.

"You sure about this?" he asks.

"We secured it a few days ago." She shakes the chain on the door. "This is still intact, and the turrets aren't shooting at us, so we're probably ok. Come on."

She walks through the place like she knows it.

"You been here before?" he asks. "I mean, before now. Before... stuff."

"Yeah," she says. "Came for a tour, once or twice. The firm I worked for represented Corvega in all their employment disputes, so they ran indoctrination sessions for all of us. Look how safe we are. Look how absolutely nobody has blood pouring from their heads. Observe how all staff have in fact been issued with appropriate safety gear, at least the ones you're looking at. That was definitely not a rat you just saw in the break room, haha, aren't we paying you a lot of money."

The place is full of part-assembled cars, of course. All rusted to goddamn and back, but there are still trays and boxes full of interesting parts and tools. While he's inspecting a really fascinating selection of plastic goodies, she hops up on the hood of the closest car, and sits hugging her knees.

"Car spends twenty-three minutes in each station," she says. "Eight stations, about three hours from one door to the other. Corvega method, they called it. They discovered that you can go much faster if you miss out all the safety protocols and checks. You just have to make sure you always have some lawyers on hand to cover your asses."

He turns, and finds she's staring at his ass. "Hey," he says.

"Can't help it, Sturges," she says. "Come on. Bring it over here, let your lawyer get a closer look."

Well, alright, he thinks. He unbuckles his toolbelt. Tosses it to one side. Does the same with his welding visor. Climbs up onto the hood with her.

She reaches up and pings open one of the clips from his overalls, then leans back on her elbows, a sly little grin on her face.

He presses her knees apart with his thumbs. He settles himself between them, placing his hands either side of her. "Twenty-three minutes, huh?" he says, right into her ear. "I guess we better get started."

It'd probably be easier if there was still a windscreen here, but they find a way to make it work, just about. Half his effort seems to be going into keeping them on the hood, let alone maintaining any kind of rhythm. And that dress of hers is probably covered in rust by now. Gonna be fun explaining that, specially after the incident with all the armor grease.

Not that they have to explain themselves to anyone. But it is kinda fun making the innocents blush.

Second station, he tosses her on the back seat, and buries his head between her thighs until she sings the gospel of Sturges.

Third station, she sits him in the driver's seat and works on his stick shift. Yeah, you know.

Fourth one, he opens the back door. "I'm just gonna... you know. Lie here for a moment."

"Okay," she says, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "Twenty-three minute break?"

He drops back on the seat so hard he nearly hits his head on the opposite door. He's got one foot on the floor, one hanging out of the door. She slides in, settles herself on top of him, stretching like a cat.

"Quit your fidgetin'," he says. "Ain't this uncomfortable enough?"

She fixes him with those brown eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. I can leave you to it, if you like?"

He wraps an arm around her shoulder, fingers gripping tight. "I'll suffer through," he says. "I don't suppose there are any luxurious beds here?"

She laughs. "No," she says. "There's a couple of mattresses up in the overseers room but, uh, it kinda got a bit bloody up there."

He doesn't like to think of her getting people bloody. Even if they were asking for it. "Who'd you clear the place with?" he asks.

"Danse," she says.

"Oh," says Sturges, shifting uncomfortably. "That guy."

She's watching his eyes. "You jealous?"

No sense lying. Not to her. "Maybe a little," he says.

"Don't worry," she says. "I didn't tell him about the Corvega method, not that that would work on him as well as it did on you. Besides, he's not interested in little old me. He's, uh..."

"Dumb as a bag of hammers?" he offers, feeling kinda relieved. "I mean, look at you."

"Oh Sturges," she says, and drops a kiss on him. "You're too kind. I mean, he's into someone else. And that's all I'm saying."

"Okay, okay," he says. "It's just hard to think that this sweet lil thing perched on me right now has a second life with power armor and miniguns."

"Come on," she says. "That was obvious from the first day we met. And I prefer laser rifles, by the way."

She is definitely the one.

"What's the time?" he asks.

"No idea," she says. "But forget the Corvega method. This is nice. Quality time, right?"

Her hand's stroking up inside his shirt, over the tattoo that only she knows is there.

"I suppose," he says, stroking his hand up her thigh to see hers.

"You think you could get one of these working?" she says.

"Maybe," he says. "Lot of parts here. Lots of rust, too, but we might be able to pull something together."

"Imagine it," she says. "You and me on the road. Windows down, sunglasses on, wind blowing in our hair. Deathclaws and radscorpions running from the noisy metal monster. Raiders and Gunners want to kill us. Everyone else wants to be us. Just need it to be big enough to hide a set of power armor in the back and we could be a totally mobile Minutemen squad."

"Gonna be honest," he says. "I preferred it when it was just the you and me bit."

"Okay," she says, when he's finished kissing her. "But is that a yes?"

He grins. "That's a hell yes."

**Author's Note:**

> I started a new character to go Institute and got distracted immediately.
> 
> For the record I did once visit a car assembly plant. The place was overflowing with stupidly attractive people with power tools.
> 
> _Kicker liked that_


End file.
